Asleep
by CayleeElizabeth
Summary: Damon catches Caroline. / Chapter 6 - Damon and Caroline go to a parade!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N – OK this is crack, as are almost all of my stories so really no surprise there. Um, slightly AU/AH set somewhere during season 4 but Elena is **_**not**_** all over Damon. This was seriously going to be a drabble. A 100 word drabble. Obviously that didn't happen so it'll probably be a one-shot, though I may continue with some more Daroline crack. Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Laters, T-**_

Asleep

Caroline leaned back in her desk chair and stretched her arms over her head as she cracked her neck. She had just spent the last six hours planted at her small desk in her bedroom cramming hard for her upcoming History final that included but was not limited to The Revolutionary War, the drafting of the Constitution, the always mind-boggling branches of US Government, and of course The Civil War. So yeah, it was a lot and Caroline was definitely in need of a potty break and a blood bag.

Without giving it a second thought, Caroline quickly stood and started walking. At about three steps in, Caroline quickly realized that something wasn't right. Her left leg was not moving like it was supposed to. Her whole leg was asleep. And now here she was, Caroline, BAMF vampire Barbie, tripping over her own two feet, trying to catch herself from falling flat on her face and failing miserably. Closing her eyes she braced for the fall, but it never comes, and instead she finds herself in a pair of very strong, very capable arms.

"Jesus Blondie! You are seriously the clumsiest vampire I have _ever_ met. _Ever_." Caroline quickly opened her eyes and looked up at her savior and of course it had to be Damon freaking Salvatore. Damon firmly grabbed Caroline by the shoulders and straightened her upright, but Caroline's leg was still slumbering peacefully which forced her to hobble around on her one good leg awkwardly while Damon cautiously kept her at arm's length.

"My leg fell asleep," Caroline mumbled lamely as she continued to hop on one foot. Seriously? One of the most embarrassing moments ever and of course Damon had to be present to witness it.

"Clearly," Damon said as he eyed Caroline with amusement while she desperately resorted to punching her thigh. Maybe violence would wake it up so she could finally speed out of here and pretend like this never ever happened.

"What are you doing here Damon?" Caroline asked with annoyance. Damon shrugged as he smirked at the still hopping Caroline.

"You weren't answering your phone." Caroline's brow furrowed as she tested her weight on the bum leg and was rewarded with the sensation of pins and needles dancing up her thigh.

"Oooh God, I hate that," Caroline hissed as she kicked her leg, only increasing the sensation. "I was studying," she finished as she waved her arm towards her desk. "Is something wrong? Is Elena ok?" Caroline asked as she again tested her weight. Damon shrugged as he moved over to her bed and sat down. Picking up one of Caroline's history books he began to leaf through the pages.

"No, nothing's wrong. Elena's fine as far as I'm allowed to know. You just, you weren't answering your phone." Caroline stared at Damon curiously as she tentatively kept her weight on her now waking leg.

"Ok…well I'm fine. And just so we're clear. This…." Caroline said as she pointed at her leg. "does _not _leave this room." Damon laughed as he closed her history book and sat it back down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah OK Blondie."

"I'm serious Damon! It's bad enough you had to see it!" Caroline whined as her cheeks flushed red.

"If I wasn't here you would have landed on your face and would probably be dealing with a bloody nose right now."

"I'd rather have a bloody nose then have you come to my rescue," Caroline said sharply which she quickly regretted when she saw hurt flash over Damon's face. "Ohmygod, are you like _vulnerable _right now or something?" Caroline asked as she hopped from leg to leg cause _hello_….in desperate need of a potty break here.

"What? No. Maybe. I don't know." Damon stumbled as he mentally kicked himself in the ass. Of course Vampire Barbie would pick up on his current emotional state even if she didn't address it in the most tactful way. Why was he even here? He should be at The Grille drowning his sorrows in a bottle of bourbon with Ric by his side constantly nagging him to take the high road and be the better man. No wait, that's Elena. Maybe he could compel a pretty brunette to be his midnight snack, no not brunette, blonde. Yes definitely blonde. Oh wait, that's right. Ric's _dead_. That's why he's here. Cause where the hell else is he supposed to go right now? "Why are you still hopping around like a Mexican jumping bean Blondie? Is your leg seriously still asleep?" Damon asked as he watched Caroline hop up and down, trying to divert the attention back to her.

"I have to pee."

"Well go you psycho!" Damon said as he waved towards the door. In a flash Caroline was out of her bedroom and in the bathroom, finally getting the relief that she so desperately sought. Not two minutes later Caroline re-entered her bedroom only to find that Damon had left, through her window by the looks of it. Walking over to her window she scanned her yard before shutting it tightly. Picking up her phone she quickly typed a text and sent it to Damon.

_I promise that next time I will answer my phone. – C_

_I'll hold you to that. - D_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N – Another one-shot not really connected to the first chapter at all. There may be some angst here? Does anyone get that? I didn't know I was capable of angst. Ahhh LadyShaye would be so proud. Anywho. Enjoy! T-**_

II

Damon came in quietly through Caroline's window. He's been doing this a lot lately, sneaking into Caroline's bedroom in the middle of the night. So much so that he could do it almost silently at this point. He had every part of her room memorized by heart; where every piece of furniture lay, knew each object's place. He probably knew it better than she did at this point. Noticing Caroline tugging at her blanket, pulling it tighter around her as the cold breeze from the window wafted through the room, Damon stealthily turned and closed the window.

Moving to Caroline's bed he gently sat at the end, carefully settling his weight onto her mattress so as not to disturb her slumber. He never knew why exactly he came here when he was faced with another sleepless night, but something about Caroline sleeping peacefully in her bed helped calm his frantic mind and warm his ice cold soul.

He'll sit there for hours at the edge of her bed. Listening to her breathe, and sometimes snore, and rarely talk in her sleep. He especially loves the times when his name crosses her lips, though it's never really in the context that he would like it to be in; always laced with a lot of disdain with just a hint of tolerance. He'll sit there, perfectly still until he finally feels his body relax and his eyes droop with tiredness, forcing him to finally kick off his boots (because Blondie would have a conniption if he got dirt on her comforter) and lay down on top of the blankets, turning on his side so he can see the profile of Caroline's face and can breathe in the fragrance of her shampoo and finally drift off to sleep.

Caroline's gotten used to waking up with Damon asleep on her bed. It definitely weirds her out that she seems to never wake up when he comes in, never feels the weight shift on the bed, never feels his presence until she's already awake. They never really talk about _why_ he's been creeper stalking in her bedroom for the past few months. She could never muster up the courage to really ask _why_. So instead, she silently climbs out of her bed whenever she finds Damon in it and wraps a blanket around her shoulders and stands by her window, letting the sun warm her skin as she waits for him to waken. It usually doesn't take long after she gets up. It's like he _knows_ that she left him.

"It looks cold outside," Caroline murmurs once she notices Damon start to stir, pressing her forehead against the cold windowpane and looking at the frost on the cars parked on her street.

"Hmmph," Damon mumbles as he stretches and rolls onto his stomach, burying his face into her pillow, hoping she doesn't notice when he deeply inhales her lingering scent.

"I think we should go get coffee….or something," Caroline says as she pulls her forehead away from the cold glass and shifts her eyes so that she can see Damon.

"Don't you have coffee here?" Damon asks, face still buried in the pillow.

"Yeah but I think we should go out, get out of this house," Caroline says as she grabs a pair of jeans and sweater out of her dresser. "Your grey cloud is seriously putting a damper on this room and my mood," Caroline finishes as she strips out of her pajamas and slips on her jeans not failing to notice when Damon steals a peek.

"Fine….." Damon says as he sits up and pulls on his boots while Caroline hooks her bra and slides into her sweater. "I'll go warm up the car," Damon finishes as he stalks out of her bedroom while she digs through her closet for the perfect pair of boots.

Caroline steps out onto her porch and takes a deep breath in as she savors the crispness of the air, noticing Damon already sitting in the Camaro hitting the wipers to get the frost off the windshield. Hitting the first step, she doesn't realize that it is covered in a sheen of black ice and before she can even blink, there is a _whoosh _andher feet are above her head and her back is hitting the concrete and the blue sky is looking down at her. And _God_, Damon is right. She is the clumsiest vampire _ever_.

"Owwww," Caroline whines but refuses to move as she hears the Camaro's door slam shut and Damon is quickly by her side and scooping her up and wait what? He's totally carrying her down the pathway to his car. _Oh God_, is she really so inept that she can't even walk? "Put me down Damon!" Caroline yells as she kicks her legs and punches against his chest, but she's only met with silence as he opens the passenger side door and sits her in the car. "What the hell was that?" Caroline asks sharply as Damon climbs in the driver's side seat.

"I don't know. But whatever it was. It doesn't leave this car. Ever," Damon says as he throws the car in 'drive' and pulls away.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N – Another random one-shot that doesn't really tie into anything but eh, I'll add it to Asleep, because it's my story and I'll write what I want to. So yeah, read, and review, and you guys are the best. I mean it. T-**_

III

Caroline found herself running for her un-dead life through the woods. Blinded by a vervain grenade that hit her square in the face by none other than our latest super-villain Jeremy Gilbert, who had to go all bad-ass Buffy the Vampire Slayer on her and try to stake her in the middle of the Winter Carnival. So here she is running at full vampire speed even though she can't see for shit because really Jeremy? You couldn't go after Damon who you know, actually killed you before, or Klaus who compelled you and is like totally evil, or even Stefan who is basically the reason your sister is a freaking _vampire_ now? No, you have to target sweet, innocent, Caroline Forbes, who helped baby-sit you when you were still in freaking pull-ups, who was your first kiss during a game of spin-the-bottle in the 7th grade, who even let you cop a feel on your 14th birthday. Yeah, let's go kill her. That seems like a _fabulous_ idea. Because what is Caroline, if not the proverbial victim in every effing storyline.

So where else would Caroline be then in the woods, blinded by vervain, tripping and falling and cursing every time she hits a root or a stump or a dip in the ground that makes her ankle twist in a not so attractive way. What else would she be doing then screaming and crying for help while Jeremy chases her armed with wooden stakes in his white wife-beater, which is all he seems to wear lately, because what? You're biceps are too freaking big for t-shirts? Give me a break.

She can feel the snow crunch under her feet, can hear the birds chirping loudly in the trees, can smell the crispness in the air, but she _cannot_ see. Everything is blurry and cloudy and so hard to distinguish until she is right on top of it, and what the _hell_ happened to her vampire healing? She's been running for at least five minutes, surely she should be able to see by now. But she can't, and her breath is getting short, even though she's pretty sure she doesn't need to actually breathe, and she hits something hard. Not hard like a tree, but hard enough that it makes her fall back slightly from the force of the impact, and now she's falling backward, but before she hits the ground there's a pair of strong, leather-clad arms wrapping around her and pulling her back to her feet.

"Stefan?" she says breathlessly, even though deep down she knows it _isn't_ Stefan.

"Try again," Damon says as he holds Caroline carefully at arm's length.

"Oh _God!_ Why is it always _you_?" Caroline whines, as her faces scrunches up in a not so attractive way.

"Not exactly the thanks I was looking for Blondie," Damon says flatly and she can't help but notice that his hands are still on her arms.

"I can't see and Jeremy's trying to kill me and _I can't see_ Damon!" She knows she's a little frantic right now. She can't stop it, and _God_ she's sorry if she is not really in the mood for Damon's quips right now.

"I think it's called Hysterical Blindness," Damon says simply, calmly, and hello? Vampire Hunter on the loose!

"Where's Jeremy?" Caroline asks dumbly after noticing that they've been standing in the same spot for a couple of minutes now and she has yet to feel a wooden stake through her heart. She can feel Damon shrug, then inch closer to her and finally pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. And yeah, she would much rather have the wooden stake at this point. Just saying.

"I think half the town heard you screaming through the woods," Damon says as he begins to walk back towards the way she came. "I'm pretty sure Stefan grabbed Jeremy, or maybe Klaus, or maybe it was Tyler. I don't know. It's getting a little hard to keep track of the boys in your life Blondie."

"I have no boys," Caroline mumbles lamely as she lets her body go limp over Damon's shoulder and she starts to see stars dance across her eyes.

"Hmm, yeah tell that to the boys," Damon says as he picks up speed and heads for the Boarding House.

"The Carnival was _ruined_," Caroline whines and she can feel the breeze picking up her skirt and "_Damon!_ Watch my skirt!"

"Oh I'm watching," Damon says slyly but moves his hand and protects Caroline's "innocence" for the duration of the journey. "Listen," Damon says switching topics as he turns down the street to his home. "The Carnival _may_ have been ruined, but look on the bright side. You're alive. Well as alive as you were when you woke up this morning, so I mean, that's a good thing right?" Caroline sighs loudly at Damon's lame attempt to cheer her up and wiggles against him annoyed.

"I think I can walk now."

"It doesn't matter. We're here," Damon says as he stands Caroline upright, once again holding her at arm's length. "Can you see?" he asks as he bends slightly so he is eyelevel with her. Caroline bites her bottom lip and nods as Damon takes her by the hand and leads her into the house. "Good, now let's get you a drink."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N – Soooo this is what happens when I get depressed because I realize that I'm turning 30 this year and I'm like totally old now.**_

IV

It started as an assignment in Sociology, to dissect the moral fabric of the youth; each student assigned their own specific decade. Caroline chewed on her bottom lip as she watched the fishbowl get passed from desk to desk, her fingers crossed that she would get the 1960's. You know, the Civil Rights Movement, Vietnam protests, women burning their bras; yeah she could really sink her teeth into the 60's. Caroline huffed loudly when the fishbowl landed at Bonnie's desk and she pulled out her folded slip of paper, smiling broadly as she unfolded it and showed it to the rest of the class. The 1960's. _Of course_.

Caroline tapped her fingers on her desk as she watched the fated bowl continue its trek down the rows of desks. Okay, so the 60's were out. Next choice, the 80's. She could do the 80's, she was loving the 80's right now. The dawn of personal computers and cellphones, women breaking the glass ceiling, _Madonna_. Caroline's forehead creased as the bowl reached Elena, who practically jumped out of her chair when she pulled out her folded slip with the 1980's clearly printed on it.

Ok, we're running out of options here and the bowl is almost empty as it finally reaches Caroline's row. Caroline taps her foot nervously against the tiled floor as she watches the bowl get closer. _Please not the 1950's. Please not the 1950's_. It reaches Tyler's desk, who immediately groans as he bangs his head on his desk_, "Oh come on! The 50's?!"_ Caroline sighs in relief, definitely pleased that she doesn't have to write a report on poodle skirts and the era of conformity and _doo-wop_, whatever the hell that is. Finally it reaches her desk. Caroline scrunches her eyes shut as she puts her hand in the bowl, hoping to channel some of Bonnie's voo-doo magic as she silently prays that she ends up with a sort-of-cool decade, because obviously the 60's and 80's were the coolest and now she's left with sub-par options. Her fingers grasp a slip of paper as she mentally envisions 1970's printed on it, holding her breath she slowly unfolds it and peeks with one eye.

_Seriously?! The 1990's?!_

Caroline groans and tries to make a quick trade with Elena. Elena would totally love the '90's. But Elena shakes her head and shrugs and mouths a 'sorry' and Caroline can't help but think '_Bitch_' and can't help but hate new Vampire Elena just a little bit.

Plan A was to go to Stefan for research. Surely he would be a plethora of information in regard to the _angst,_ and _grunge_, and _mood_ of the 90's. Because really, Stefan is like Mr. Broody McBrooderson, and what was the youth of the 90's, the Gen X'ers, if not a bunch of narcissistic brooders? Unfortunately, Plan A was an Epic Fail, thanks to Elena hogging all of Stefan's time, asking very important questions like "Is Aquanet the reason there's a hole in the o-zone layer? And what is Reaganomics and who exactly is waging the War on Drugs?" So Alas, Caroline was left to her own devices which included DVD box sets of Beverly Hills 90210 (Dylan should totally pick Brenda), and My So Called Life (with that actress that plays Carrie on Homeland, Claire Danes!), and Blue-Ray copies of 'Reality Bites' (sorry, the whole movie bites. What was all the hype about Winona Ryder? _Gawd_.) and Pulp Fiction (ok that movie was totally badass, no complaints).

So maybe all of this could explain why Caroline now found herself in a diner, sitting at the counter next to Damon who was reading the newspaper and smoking a cigarette and God, this whole diner is filled with cigarette smoke, even that pregnant woman in the booth is puffing on a Pall Mall. And she can hear Jewel crooning through the speakers as she asks the question "Who will save your soul?"

"Where are we?" Caroline asks as she looks through the haze of smoke, noticing a lot of flannel and are those _scrunchi's_?!

"A diner," Damon deadpans as he flips back to the front page of _The Virginian-Pilot. _"Are you going to eat that?" he asks as he nods towards a plate resting in front of Caroline. She looks down and notices a congealed slice of key-lime pie and scrunches up her nose as she quickly pushes it to Damon.

"Is this a dream?" Damon shrugs as he take a bite of the pie, letting it roll around his tongue as he tests the lime-iness of the key-lime before taking another bite.

"Probably, it would explain the inaccuracies. Either that or we are experiencing a _serious_ glitch in the Matrix."

"What?" Damon sighs dramatically and slides the newspaper that he was reading in front of her. Caroline's eyebrows crease as she reads the front page headline 'A FREE MAN' with a picture of, "Who is that, OJ Simpson?"

"Bingo." Caroline's eyes shifted to the date printed on the top right corner; October 4, 1995.

"Is that not right?" Caroline asked her finger tapping on the printed date. Damon shrugged again as he pulled the paper back.

"I think it's right, but this," Damon says as he points to a TV nestled in the corner of the diner "is definitely _not_ right." Caroline's eyes follow Damon's pointed finger, noticing a flat screen LCD TV hanging on the wall with images of a white Ford Bronco travelling at an obscenely slow rate of speed. "If it is in fact October 4th 1995 than there should definitely not be LCD TV's hanging in diners with pictures of the Bronco chase when the newspaper says OJ was acquitted yesterday.

"This is weird," Caroline says with a huff as her eyes once again scan the scene around her, not failing to notice the other patrons looking at her oddly.

"It's your dream Blondie."

"Why is everyone looking at me funny?" Damon turned slightly, letting his eyes slowly roam over Caroline.

"Well your jeans are too dark and too tight, you're heels are too pointy, and your missing those," Damon's finger circled around his head as he struggled for a moment "scrunchi things."

"How come no one's looking at you funny?" Caroline asked with a frown as she inspected her own appearance before moving her eyes over Damon.

"Because leather jackets and black denim jeans never go out of style. I always tried to avoid the fads." Damon's eyes once again raked over Caroline's body as Jewel ended and Aerosmith began belting out Cryin'.

"You need some flannel," Damon grumbles and suddenly the whole dream shifts and Caroline is suddenly sitting on top of the counter in a red flannel button up with little else except for a pair of white silk panties and matching bra. The diner is now empty and she can hear Steven Tyler wailing over the speakers as she looks up at Damon who is now standing between her bare legs and he's leaning over her and nuzzling her neck and Caroline can't help but arch underneath him.

"_Damon_," Caroline breathes as her fingers dig into the leather of his jacket and she knows he's totally manipulating this dream right now and she wishes she could care, but she doesn't.

"I miss the way you taste," Damon says lowly as Caroline tilts her head back, exposing the length of her neck and she can feel his fangs just grazing against the softness of her skin.

She awakens with a start, her body drenched in a cold sweat as she gets her bearings, quickly realizing she's in her room. Turning on her side she notices Damon lying next to her, on top of comforter, his back to her as the moonlight casts long shadows over his chiseled features. _Well that explains a lot_. Caroline nestles herself against his rigid form, her face burying into his back as her arm drapes over him lazily. Instantly his body relaxes.

"Do you really miss the way I taste?" Caroline whispers, not even sure if he's awake. Damon snorts quietly as he pulls her arms tighter around him.

"In your dreams Blondie. Go back to sleep."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N – Crack. Pure, sugary sweet crack. Caroline dreams about fried chicken and zombies. Review?**_

V

There's this thing about Caroline's dreams; for whatever reason she is almost always human in them. Stefan said it's normal, that their subconscious doesn't know that they're vampires. So she goes with it.

Normally she doesn't mind being human in her dreams. But normally she isn't being chased by brain eating zombies.

There was a brief moment when she was tagging along with Morgan Freeman in a mall trying to find a bucket of fried chicken, but everything kind of went awry and she ended up crushing a zombie's head in a minivan door and now she's here, in Suburbia, half-way up a pretty steep hill getting chased by a Walker.

The sun is shining a little too brightly, and the grass is a little too green, and the sky is a little too blue, and it almost makes her dream eyes hurt from the seemingly high-definition clarity.

She stops for a minute to catch her breath and looks up the hill. _Does it ever end?_ She definitely doesn't remember it being this steep a minute ago. She then looks down back down the way she came and sees that the zombie is getting closer.

There comes a time in everyone's life, when you're trapped in Suburbia, on a super steep never ending hill, being chased by the undead that you have to decide if you're going to continue uphill and risk getting tired and having the zombie catch up to you because zombies don't get fatigued; or if you're going to go back the way you came and hope that the increased speed of running _downhill_ is enough to get away without becoming an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Downhill it is.

Quickly she turns on her heel and moves as far over to the right side of the road as she can and begins pumping her human legs as fast as they'll carry her and _God_ she wishes she had a machete or a shot gun or a cross-bow or _something_ to defend herself with. She just misses the outstretched hand of the zombie and for the briefest of moments thinks albeit naively that she is in the clear, home-free, almost to the finish line.

Her feeling of elatedness doesn't last long however, because while she managed to swerve out of the path of the attacking brain-muncher, her feet ended up getting tangled up with a protruding tree root, and _seriously? Where the fudge did that come from?_ So now she's _rolling_ down the hill and surprisingly it doesn't really hurt, but it is a dream after all and she can't help but feel a little like Alice falling down the well to Wonder Land.

She finally reaches the bottom, her body hitting a pair of denim-clad legs and she's pretty much expecting it to be Damon because it's_ always_ Damon these days, but the strong arms that pick her up and cradle her against a soft cotton shirt aren't covered in a leather jacket, but instead are bare, and tan, and muscular, and _what the…? _Tentatively she opens her eyes and immediately notices brown shaggy hair and equally brown eyes that are looking down at her curiously.

"You okay Miss?" His voice is low with a distinct southern drawl and Caroline suddenly kind of likes where this dream is going.

"Daryl?" she squeaks out causing his brow to furrow.

"You know me?" he asks with confusion.

"Bet your ass I know you!" Caroline starts excitedly as she tries to wiggle out of his arms but his grip only tightens around her.

"Careful, you might be hurt."

_Oh yeah. Zombies._

Caroline turns her head and sure enough the zombie that was making it a mission to make her his midday snack is closing in on them.

She screams, because she can. She can finally be the damsel in distress in this fucked up dream instead of the lone heroine.

xXx

"Blondie…" he starts with a gentle nudge.

"Wake up." he nudges again, a little bit harder this time, annoyed that this girl constantly talks in her sleep. Christ knows she does enough talking when she's awake, does she really need to do it sleeping too?

She screams.

"Caroline!" he's almost shouting now, shaking her roughly until she slowly opens her eyes and looks up at him sleepily.

"What?" she grumbles as she tries to turn away from Damon.

"Who's Daryl?" he asks sharply and Caroline almost flinches under his piercing gaze.

"Who?" She puts her hand over her mouth and yawns loudly.

"Daryl," he snaps, becoming increasingly annoyed.

"Daryl?" Caroline asks her brow furrowing as she struggles to figure out what the hell Damon's problem is this time.

"Who is he Blondie?" His body is almost completely on top of hers, pinning her against the mattress uncomfortably. Caroline frowns as she fights away the fog in her brain and suddenly remembers Morgan Freeman and chicken and zombies and _Daryl_.

"The Walking Dead," she yawns and stretches underneath Damon's rigid body and _oh…._

"The Walking what?" he shifts slightly when he feels Caroline stretch beneath him and the friction feels kind of….nevermind.

"Zombies Damon. I was having a dream about zombies. Daryl is a character on The Walking Dead." She rolls her eyes when the confusion on Damon's face does not go away. "It's a show Damon. About zombies…" her voice trails off and she suddenly finds herself wishing she was back in zombie land and in Daryl's arms. His jaw tics and he's suddenly off of her, lying beside her on his back and Caroline almost misses the physical contact. But she'd never tell him that.

"You seriously need to stop talking in your sleep," he grumbles and Caroline huffs.

"If you don't like it, go home and sleep in your own damn bed _Damon_. I don't _ask_ you to creeper stalk your way into my bedroom almost every night."

"I think I have some Ambien at home," he continues to grumble as if he didn't hear her outburst at all.

"Good, you need it," she replies sharply causing him to turn his head so he can see the outline of her face.

"Not for me Blondie. For you!"

"I'm not the insomniac!" Caroline shouts as she abruptly turns on her side almost causing Damon to roll off the side.

"Yeah well maybe if you're knocked out cold you won't yap in your sleep so much." Caroline rolls her eyes in annoyance.

"Maybe you should just snap my neck when you come in here. It'd save you on co-pays," she says bitterly as she adjusts so that she is once again on her back.

"Damn, why didn't I think of that?" he mumbles as he laces his fingers over his chest.

"Go home Damon," Caroline grumbles as she rolls on her side so that her back is to him.

"I don't want to," he grumbles back, turning on his own side and wrapping his arm around her.

She rolls her eyes and tries again but finds herself nestling into him more closely even as she tells him to get the hell out.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N – OK so I actually started writing this ON St Patrick's Day which explains the Kelly Green and Irish Whiskey and parades….For those of you who read and *followed* LA Bound it was supposed to be a one-shot but because you guys are persistent little buggers I'll probably turn it into another crack-shoot story about Damon and Caroline in LA – just warning you now however, that I have never actually been to LA or California so most of my knowledge on the region comes from Beverly Hills 90210…and not the new one. Anyway – I got a lot going on but just wanted to thank all of you for your continued support and lovely reviews. T-**_

VI

She's spinning and twirling around the room in a blur of blonde curls and streaks of Kelly green, a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey in her hand, Flogging Molly blaring from the speakers.

"Who let a leprechaun loose in the living room?" she hears Damon shout causing her to stop mid-twirl.

"It's St Patrick's Day," Caroline says breathlessly.

"Indeed it is," says Klaus who appears next to Damon, busy ogling Caroline in her short green dress. Her lip curls up in disgust as she sneers, "Who invited you?"

"Me," replies Stefan, his arms crossed over his chest as he eyes Caroline with a hint of amusement.

"Great," Caroline huffs and takes a long swig from the bottle of Jameson. She lowers the bottle and slowly moves her eyes from Stefan, to Klaus, and finally to Damon who raises a brow curiously as her jaw sets in determination. "Come on," she says and grabs Damon's hand, practically dragging him to the door.

"Where are we going?" he asks as he shoots a hopeless glance towards his brother who only smirks and shrugs.

"The parade!"

xXx

"Well this is a bust," Damon says with a scowl as he pries the bottle of whiskey from Caroline's hand. Bringing it to his lips, he frowns when he barely gets a drop. "And we're out of whiskey," he continues to gripe, waving the bottle in front of Caroline's face who pushes it out of her line of sight in annoyance as she stands on her toes, trying to get a good view of the float that was passing by.

"You just don't know how to have fun."

"_This_," Damon says with a wave of his arm. "Is not fun" Caroline gives him a side-long glance, the corners of her lips turning up slightly. "It's torture." Caroline doesn't reply, merely turns her attention back to the parade and the Mystic Falls HS marching band. "_And_," he continues with emphasis, not exactly thrilled that Blondie is perfectly content with pretending he's not there when she's the one who dragged him out in the first place. "You're not even _Irish_."

"I think I have some Irish in me," she says defensively, her brow creasing as she tries to remember the family tree that she had to make two years ago for her history class.

"Not enough to constitute wasting a perfectly good day watching a _parade_."

"I like parades."

"_I_ like _whiskey_," Damon retorts, once again waving the empty bottle of Jameson in front of her. With a growl she roughly snatches the empty bottle out of his hand and throws it on the sidewalk, the bottle shattering into tiny shards of glass.

_"God you're so annoying!"_ she screams as she once again grabs his hand and practically drags him down the crowded sidewalk.

"Where are we going now?" he asks with a smirk.

"To get more whiskey and a baby bottle for you to drink it out of," she growls, her heels tapping loudly against the pavement.

xXx

"How original," Damon deadpans, bored, as his eyes roam over the familiar crowd meandering around The Grille.

"Here," Caroline says turning and handing him a tumbler filled to the brim with amber liquid. "Drink." Damon rolls his eyes but takes the whiskey and swallows it down in one smooth gulp.

"_Aaahhhh_."

Caroline rolls her eyes and takes her own smaller shot of whiskey, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Classy," Damon says, grimacing slightly at the unusual act of un-lady-like behavior from the blonde vampire. She sticks her tongue out at him and he suddenly wonders what's got Blondie all riled up. "Keep making faces and it'll freeze that way."

"Sometimes I wish you had a 'mute' button," Caroline says before gulping down another shot of whiskey.

"Ditto," Damon says as he clanks his full glass with her empty one. Caroline's bottom lip sticks out slightly in a pout as her eyes roam over their surroundings before landing once again on Damon.

"Want to dance?" she asks and his eyebrows rise until they almost reach his hairline.

"Seriously?"

"That's my line," she says as she grabs his hand and drags him behind her for the third time today and if she keeps it up he's definitely going to have to remind her who's the Sire in this relationship. The music slows and she loosely wraps her arms around his neck and he in turn places his hands on her waist and it is all very middle school dance-_ish_ but his fingers can't help but lightly run over the fabric of her Kelly green dress.

"I was wrong," he murmurs quietly and if it wasn't for her vampire hearing she probably would have missed it but she doesn't, so slowly her eyes rise to meet his and he's got this smoldering look about him that makes her breath catch in her throat.

"Hmm?" is her only response and she's kind of aware that her fingers are playing with his hair.

"You don't look like a leprechaun," he says and his eyes are still smoldering but the corner of his mouth is turning up slightly into his classic smirk. "You look like Tinker Bell." Her eyes turn from dreamy to menacing in a half a blink and he's quick to take a half step back but she's a millisecond faster and before he's fully aware of what is happening his back is crashing against the jukebox and _fuck_ Sheriff Forbes is gonna have his head for this one.

"Yeah well you're Peter _fucking_ Pan!" she screams and she's half-tempted to go after him again but judging by the terrified expressions of the on-lookers she thinks twice and instead storms out of The Grille before he's back on his feet.

"_Pssh_. I'm totally Captain Hook," he says as he picks shards of colored glass out of his leather jacket though no one is really listening.


End file.
